


warm and fuzzy shit

by returnsandreturns



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Period Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-17
Updated: 2017-01-17
Packaged: 2018-09-18 01:39:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9359954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/pseuds/returnsandreturns
Summary: When Marci cancels a date because her uterus is literally attacking her, Foggy shows up at her dorm about half an hour later with a bag full of her favorite junk food, a bottle of sparkling water, and tampons.“Jesus,” she says, smiling despite herself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'M WRITING SO MUCH TODAY
> 
> anyway, foggy nelson would be a great boyfriend, i think we can all agree

When Marci cancels a date because her uterus is literally attacking her, Foggy shows up at her dorm about half an hour later with a bag full of her favorite junk food, a bottle of sparkling water, and tampons.

“Jesus,” she says, smiling despite herself.

“I have a sister,” he says, shrugging. “And a thousand girl cousins. I know things.”

“Of course you do,” she says, laughing. “You know, I get a little less attracted to you the sweeter you get.”

“I don’t believe that at all,” Foggy says, reaching up to touch her face gently before he leans in to press a kiss to her cheek. “You want me to stay or leave you to wallow?”

“. . .hug me,” she says, after thinking for a moment, and Foggy snorts and sits the bag on the ground before wrapping her up in his arms. He’s wearing a soft hoodie that still smells like fabric softener and his body feels good against hers, warm and steady. She hums speculatively then pulls away, turning around to collapse on the bed again.

“Is that a yes?” Foggy asks. His face is so fond that it makes Marci feel things beyond her body punishing her for not giving it a baby.

“Yes,” Marci says, reaching out her hand for him, “but you have to leave if you start annoying me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, grabbing the back and moving it to her nightstand before he kicks his shoes off and, after staring at her questioningly and getting an eye roll and a nod, steps out of his jeans to crawl onto the bed next to her in his boxers.

They lie facing each other, making weird eye contact until Foggy breaks and laughs, leaning forward to kiss her gently. Marci gets a hand in his hair and holds on, letting herself melt into the kiss until another cramp starts building up and she turns onto her back with a groan.

“What’ll make you feel better?” Foggy asks, sitting up on his elbow to smile down at her.

“Eating chocolate while simultaneously having a really nice orgasm,” she says, pouting at him.

“I could make that happen,” he offers, fingers gently touching her stomach before moving down to rub back and forth over her pelvis.

“We can’t fuck,” she says, making an encouraging noise. “It’s like an episode of CSI down there. There’s, like, yellow tape and chalk outlines.”

“I don’t mind,” Foggy says, fingers moving even lower to trace between her legs, over the seam of her soft blue pajama shorts. Marci immediately aches for it, lifting her hips slightly and letting out a soft sigh when Foggy presses hard over her clit.

“The gung ho feminist dude thing is cute,” she says, dryly, “but you don’t have to.”

Foggy’s hand cups her cunt instead, and she full on moans when he squeezes, a little rougher than before.

“What if I want to?” he asks, smile growing when she gapes at him.

“Do you have a weird fetish?” she asks, making soft pleased noises when he starts to massage her clit through her shorts, rolling her hips up.

“Well, I’ve never done it before,” Foggy says, patting her once before sitting up, “but who knows?”

They have a staring contest again before Marci makes a face and nods.

“Okay, go for it,” she says. “Just—do not put your dick or anything bigger than a finger inside me at all. Everything is sore and I didn’t even get to do anything fun to earn it.”  

“Got it,” Foggy says, leaning down again to kiss her again before he grabs her towel from where she abandoned it on the floor earlier and very efficiently puts it underneath her and takes her shorts off.

“Seriously?” she asks, a little breathlessly, when he slides down between her legs until he’s breathing close to her cunt.

“If you want it,” he says, leaning in to lick over her clit before he looks up at her and raises his eyebrows. She lets the feeling soak through her before she drops a hand to thread it through his hair, nodding then laughing out a moan when Foggy dips back down to suck on her clit.

“Oh my god, this is—” she gasps, writhing just a little, petting his hair. “This is good, we should’ve done this before.”

She can _feel_ Foggy smile against her skin before he keeps it up while Marci grunts and gasps.

“Fuck,” she says, firmly, laughing as she comes with her hips rocking up against his face. “Holy fucking _shit_. I wish I didn’t have a tampon in, I really want your tongue inside me.”

Foggy moves his hand from where it was resting on her hip to brush over the tampon string, making a curious noise.

“I could take it out,” he says, like that’s a thing.

Marci collapses against her pillows and stares at the ceiling before she says, like she can’t quite believe it, “Yeah, you could.”

She feels weird and buzzed and vulnerable all at once, already ready to go, and she whimpers when Foggy closes fingers around the string and tugs gently until the tampon slides out her and he can throw it into the trashcan by her bed.

When he moves back into position, he dips a finger inside of her while his tongue circles her clit a few times—before he traces his tongue down to lick over where his finger’s just barely stretching her.

“Foggy,” she says. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

When Foggy looks up at her to grin, he’s got a streak of blood on his chin.

“Don’t worry,” he says. “I’m here for the interim.”

He goes down on her again and keeps alternating two fingers and his tongue inside of her until she’s shaking and saying, embarrassingly high-pitched, “Yeah, shit, yeah, _yeah_ ,” like she’s starring in some dramatic porn. She feels like she shatters when she comes again, tightening her fingers in Foggy’s hair and letting it hit her in waves until she collapses underneath him again, exhausted.

Foggy’s face has even more blood on it, now, streaks of it on his mouth and cheeks, the bridge of his nose.

“I want you to kiss me,” she says, smiling helplessly as he sits up and wipes his hands off on the towel, “but I need you to wash your face first.”

“Fair enough,” he says, laughing. “Lift up.”

He pulls the towel out from underneath her and folds it over to wipe his face on the clean side, checking in her mirror before he starts to leave to go to the tiny bathroom she shares with her suitemates.

“Do you want me to get myself off before I come back?” he asks. “Because it’s gonna take, like, nothing at this point, and you can stay in bed.”

“Would you?” she asks. “I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says, smiling at her before he slips out of the room. She lies there for a solid few minutes before she thinks she can move again, getting up slowly to put the towel in her hamper and clean herself off and put another tampon in.

She’s in a new pair of pajama pants, long cotton ones this time, when Foggy comes back looking damp and pleased with himself.

“Cuddling?” he asks, pointing a finger at her.

“Desperate times,” she replies, opening her arms, waiting until she’s in his arms with her face hidden against his chest before she adds, muffled, “You’re kind of the best.”

“I love you, too,” Foggy says, because he’s been saying that, lately.

Marci hasn’t been able to say it yet, but she’s pretty sure she feels it.  


End file.
